MornaToron: The Battle of Three Armies
by Bennycraze2K3
Summary: In this story we follow MornaToron, an elvish ranger, on his adventures through Middle-Earth, and ultimately Mirkwood where the Battle of Three armies is forming and will take place. please R/R!
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Much has changed since the destruction of the One Ring. Years have long passed, and Middle-Earth is once again at peace.  
  
The world of Men is growing and their borders increasing in size. Men now rule the East, alongside the Elves which they live with peacefully.  
  
The world has changed. Peace now rules the green lands of Middle- Earth. For ten years the lands of Middle-Earth were free, but things are changing. The race of Orcs have multiplied, and, even though they are not led, they are growing more hostile. The Orcs have joined with the Goblins, and have only brought mischief to Middle-Earth.  
  
For there comes a time when even one can change the future. 


	2. Chapter I: Fire and Darkness

Chapter I: Fire and Darkness  
  
Mornatoron stirred in his sleep. He was uneasy, and the roots sticking into his back did not help the situation. He tilted his blonde head to the side and saw Latriel sitting by the fire.  
  
"What are you doing now?" Toron asked in their native Elvish tongue.  
  
"Trying to stay warm in this accursed forest." Latriel said, looking at the dark forest roof above his head. "What would I give to be back in Mirkwood.."  
  
"Well, you know why we're here."  
  
"Yes, yes. We have to follow orders."  
  
"You wouldn't want Celeborn putting a price on your head, now would you?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
Toron pulled himself out of his Elven blankets, and looked at the dark forest roof. The stumps of the trees were mangled and growing over eachother, as if they were wrestling for their lives.  
  
"I despise Fangorn." Toron spoke softly.  
  
"It isn't so bad once you get used to it." Latriel responded, taking a small bite of Lembas.  
  
"That's just it. I'm not used to it."  
  
"And you never will." Latriel laughed, pointing his square piece of lembas at Toron.  
  
"You know, you complain more than.. a complaining thing."  
  
"Thanks." Toron said as he walked to a tree nearby. It's grey bark stood out against the utter darkness of the forest. "Do you remember that song that we used to sing on our first night on a journey?"  
  
"The one about unseen roads and such matters?"  
  
"Yes.. let's see.. how does that go?  
  
Down from the doorsteps  
  
Onto the road  
  
Down from the Elven flets  
  
Into a darker world  
  
Down from the lives we had  
  
Into a world of danger  
  
Down from the kin we love  
  
Out to smite foe's anger  
  
  
  
'Was that it?" Toron asked, looking into the fire.  
  
"Yes, I believe so. I have not heard those words sung in long years."  
  
"Come, let us get some rest." Toron sighed as he picked up his pack and set it at the head of his blankets. "We have a long road before us tomorrow."  
  
Latriel stood and gathered his things, then he laid himself down to rest. He lay on his back, peering into the dark roof of the forest. He could see the flickering red from the fire in the bottom of his eyes.  
  
"Down from the doorsteps.." Toron began to mumble as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Latriel closed his eyes. He began to think of Mirkwood, and of his home high in the trees of Mirkwood's forest. He saw the flowers, smelt the air, and felt the ground. He could hear the animals scurrying to and fro in the brush. It all felt so real.  
  
Suddenly his eyes jerked open. He lay tense, listening. He had heard something move.  
  
"Seama!" He whispered to Toron, who opened his eyes immediately. "Seama!" Latriel whispered again. Toron understood what he was telling him. His arm slowly crept to his side, where his sword lay. Latriel's hand slowly moved to the handle of his bow.  
  
Latriel looked at the fire again. It was burning happily, but behind it there were flickers of read that did not die out. That is no fire. That's a reflection of the fire! He suddenly jumped to his feet and let an arrow go. It met it's mark, right between the two red eyes of whatever was watching them.  
  
"Toron!" Latriel shouted. The two ran over to the corpse of a dead goblin. Toron quickly investigated the dead Goblin's gear, and looked at Latriel.  
  
"A scout. Just as I feared.. Grab your gear! Get into the trees, quickly!" He dropped to the ground. He was listening to the ground. He then ran over to Latriel, who was already climbing a gnarled tree trunk. He soon joined him in the tree next, and they stood in their separate trees, watching.  
  
"What did you hear?" Latriel whispered in Elvish.  
  
"A troop of Goblins.. less than 50 meters away. 10 to 15. Latriel.. arm your bow brother!" He said as they heard scurrying in the distance. "Silence!"  
  
"Hurry, hurry! We're supposed to reach old Isenguard before the next morn'." Said a goblin.  
  
"I'm hurryin as fast as I can. Calm down!" Yelled another.  
  
"I am not going to tolerate slackers," The leader yelled as they entered the circle of trees where Toron and Latriel had just been. The two stood silent in their trees. "What is this? A fire?"  
  
"It would appear so. You're dumber than you appear!" Yelled an orc from the rear rank.  
  
"You be quiet! Who dares insult me?"  
  
"I do!" yelled the same goblin, as he stood aside from the rank. "and I am sick of you!"  
  
The leader pulled a knife from his belt, and threw it directly at the goblin. It caught him right in the neck. He fell to the ground dead. "Any others?" asked the leader. There was silence. "Spread out. We'll take a few minute break."  
  
The goblins arranged themselves around the fire, drinking and eating merrily. Shouts and chants rose from the drunken goblins, who were growing weary. One goblin bumped into another.  
  
"hey! What do you think you're doing!?" asked the goblin who was bumped.  
  
"nu-nothing! Just a mistake!" Mumbled the other.  
  
"Not while I can help it!" yelled the angry goblin as he grabbed the other by the throat.  
  
Before long there was a brawl. Goblins fighting themselves. From Latriel's point of view, it was quite entertaining.  
  
"Come, now is the time!" Toron whispered. He then jumped from the tree, wielding his sword and holding it high. "For Mirkwood!" He yelled. Latriel was beside him in a flash.  
  
The Goblins were startled and shocked. Before half of them could get to their swords, they were slain. Toron screamed as the took down another, and Latriel shot three with his bow. The two were slaying the Goblins until only one stood.  
  
"Any last words?" Toron asked the trembling goblin.  
  
"Ugh." Said the goblin.  
  
"That's good enough for me!" Toron yelled as he charged. He raised his sword and brought it down for one final swipe, when he heard a sharp twang!. He looked at the goblin before him, and he had an arrow between his eyes. He fell to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Aww, Latriel! That one was mine! Alas, you do have the quicker weapon."  
  
"It is true." Replied Latriel.  
  
Toron looked at the roof, and noticed that the sun had crept through cracks in it's leaf ceiling. It was morning.  
  
"Come, Latriel. We must be on our way! The sun is rising! Onwards to Mirkwood!" 


	3. Chapter II: Out of Fangorn

Chapter II: Out of Fangorn  
  
"Umph!" Latriel sighed as he fell into a slimy puddle.  
  
"Latriel, get up. Stop wasting time." Toron said as he turned back to look at his muddy companion.  
  
"I'm not wasting time! These trees have minds of their own!" Latriel said as he stood, mud dripping from his Elven sash.  
  
"Come Latriel, we are nearly out of here." Toron commanded as he turned and began to jog.  
  
"Coming, sir." Latriel picked up the knife that had slipped from his belt, and ran after Toron. "How long until Mirkwood?"  
  
"At least two days." Toron answered as he ducked under a low branch. Latriel let out a sigh, and jogged after him. They passed through many trees, and light was dim. The trees stood, mangled and uneven as they were, like straight poles attempting to hold them in from every side.  
  
"It's almost as if the trees were against us!" Latriel shouted to Toron, who was far ahead.  
  
"They might be. You know the songs of old - 'The Ents' they called them. You remember, surely!"  
  
"Yes, I do. How much farther to the edge of the forest?"  
  
"Only a few more minutes, then we'll be out of this forest just east of the Misty Mountains."  
  
"And from there, we go straight to Mirkwood?"  
  
"Yes. Unless some unseen evil befalls us. I don't like those goblins we met last night."  
  
"It unsettles my mind as well."  
  
"It should. Be on your guard," He stopped and pointed at a faint light far ahead. "Do not be burdened, brother, we have reached the edge of Fangorn!" He said as he sprinted forwards.  
  
"It certainly took us long enough," Latriel sighed and noticed Toron was far ahead. "Wait for me!" He yelled and ran after.  
  
They exited the thick walls of the trees of Fangorn, and stopped. "Finally," Toron sighed as he took a deep breath of fresh air. "It is refreshing to have clean air inside, is it not?"  
  
"I agree," replied Latriel. "I prefer this over Fangorn anytime."  
  
Toron took a step forward and placed his foot on a rock, looking at the massive mountains that loomed over them to their left. "Behold, the beautiful Misty Mountains." The Mountains loomed beautifully, their caps standing tall and proud, with freshly fallen snow scattered about their tops. "Come, let us be on our way!"  
  
They walked together, over the vast fields, and rocky ravines that accompanied the beauty of the mountains. Latriel lifted his head and looked to the tallest mountain, which could hardly be seen from where they were. He pointed and asked Toron, "What is that?"  
  
Toron raised his eyes, and recognized the mountain. "That is the mountain which has the pass of Caradhras at it's highest peak.  
  
"Caradhras.." Latriel whispered to himself.  
  
"Yes, I have long wanted to climb it's peak - but never had the opportunity."  
  
"Then let us go there!" Latriel said, slapping Toron on the back and beginning to run off. Toron grabbed his arm.  
  
"That would delay our journey several days. We shall not take that road." He said sternly. Latriel looked at Toron and relaxed. "Come, let us go. We shall make camp there," He said, pointing to the base of Caradhras.  
  
They ran off, and made their way to Caradhras. 


	4. Chapter III: Onto the Path of Charadhras

Chapter II: Out of Fangorn  
  
"Umph!" Latriel sighed as he fell into a slimy puddle.  
  
"Latriel, get up. Stop wasting time." Toron said as he turned back to look at his muddy companion.  
  
"I'm not wasting time! These trees have minds of their own!" Latriel said as he stood, mud dripping from his Elven sash.  
  
"Come Latriel, we are nearly out of here." Toron commanded as he turned and began to jog.  
  
"Coming, sir." Latriel picked up the knife that had slipped from his belt, and ran after Toron. "How long until Mirkwood?"  
  
"At least two days." Toron answered as he ducked under a low branch. Latriel let out a sigh, and jogged after him. They passed through many trees, and light was dim. The trees stood, mangled and uneven as they were, like straight poles attempting to hold them in from every side.  
  
"It's almost as if the trees were against us!" Latriel shouted to Toron, who was far ahead.  
  
"They might be. You know the songs of old - 'The Ents' they called them. You remember, surely!"  
  
"Yes, I do. How much farther to the edge of the forest?"  
  
"Only a few more minutes, then we'll be out of this forest just east of the Misty Mountains."  
  
"And from there, we go straight to Mirkwood?"  
  
"Yes. Unless some unseen evil befalls us. I don't like those goblins we met last night."  
  
"It unsettles my mind as well."  
  
"It should. Be on your guard," He stopped and pointed at a faint light far ahead. "Do not be burdened, brother, we have reached the edge of Fangorn!" He said as he sprinted forwards.  
  
"It certainly took us long enough," Latriel sighed and noticed Toron was far ahead. "Wait for me!" He yelled and ran after.  
  
They exited the thick walls of the trees of Fangorn, and stopped. "Finally," Toron sighed as he took a deep breath of fresh air. "It is refreshing to have clean air inside, is it not?"  
  
"I agree," replied Latriel. "I prefer this over Fangorn anytime."  
  
Toron took a step forward and placed his foot on a rock, looking at the massive mountains that loomed over them to their left. "Behold, the beautiful Misty Mountains." The Mountains loomed beautifully, their caps standing tall and proud, with freshly fallen snow scattered about their tops. "Come, let us be on our way!"  
  
They walked together, over the vast fields, and rocky ravines that accompanied the beauty of the mountains. Latriel lifted his head and looked to the tallest mountain, which could hardly be seen from where they were. He pointed and asked Toron, "What is that?"  
  
Toron raised his eyes, and recognized the mountain. "That is the mountain which has the pass of Caradhras at it's highest peak.  
  
"Caradhras.." Latriel whispered to himself.  
  
"Yes, I have long wanted to climb it's peak - but never had the opportunity."  
  
"Then let us go there!" Latriel said, slapping Toron on the back and beginning to run off. Toron grabbed his arm.  
  
"That would delay our journey several days. We shall not take that road." He said sternly. Latriel looked at Toron and relaxed. "Come, let us go. We shall make camp there," He said, pointing to the base of Caradhras.  
  
They ran off, and made their way to Caradhras. 


	5. Chapter IV: Ethelas and Tiama

Chapter IV: Ethelas and Tiama  
  
"Why did I ever agree to going into Fangorn.." Latriel sighed between heavy breaths.  
  
"Hurry up! They are gaining!" Toron yelled as an arrow impacted harmlessly on a rock nearby.  
  
The two ran around a large corner, into a great open space on the mountainside. Toron quickly grabbed Latriel's collar and pulled him to the wall, so approaching goblins would not see them from the path.  
  
"Toro.."  
  
"Shh! Get your bow ready!" Toron whispered. "Here they come." He said when he heard footsteps coming near.  
  
The troop of goblins turned the corner and emptied into the open space. Toron noticed that there were only fifteen, and not fifty. "I should have checked. That was foolish of me." He said to himself. "Latriel, you cover me. I'll come in from the right." Toron quickly ran into the clearing, and even as he was doing so, three goblins fell from Latriel's quick hands.  
  
Toron leaped into the group of goblins, swinging his sword this way and that. Six were slain with minimal effort. Toron was preparing to hew another, when he was tackled by a goblin. He grunted as the goblin punched him straight in the face. Toron was dazed for a second, just long enough for the goblin to retrieve a small dagger from his belt and shove it into Toron's side.  
  
Toron screamed in agony, and kicked the goblin right in the stomach, causing him to fly two feet away. Toron leaped to his feet, grabbed his sword, and stabbed the goblin right through the chest. The goblin's face was that of pain and agony, but Toron wasn't finished. He pulled his sword out, but from his chest to the right, causing his chest to be wrenched open. The stunned goblin grabbed his open chest, looked at Toron in shock, and fell to the ground in a puddle of black blood.  
  
Toron stood over the goblin in triumph, but a wave of pain swept over him, and he fell to the ground. Latriel leaped from his spot from the wall, and brought out his sword. He was not as gifted in the area of swords as Toron was, but he had some talent. He charged the remaining goblins, and hewed them all. He stood over the last goblin and put his sword away in its sheath. He then ran to Toron.  
  
"Toron! Are you alright?"  
  
Toron squirmed in discomfort. "It hurts.. Take this dagger out of my side." Latriel leaned over and yanked a small dagger from his side, and Toron winced in pain. "Latriel.. Tell me.. Is the tip black?"  
  
Latriel held the dagger in his hands, observing it, and looking very closely at the edges. "Yes, it does. There is also etches of black along the edges of it also."  
  
"Goblin poison. Latriel, you must get us to a solitary place.. Somewhere where goblins cannot reach."  
  
"There is a shelf just above this alcove, very hard to see even for us."  
  
"Let's go." Toron wheezed.  
  
Latriel attempted to help Toron up, he was wincing in pain every move he made. They slowly made their way up the rocky wall to the shelf above the alcove. Latriel set Toron down and gave him his bag to rest upon.  
  
"Get some Ethelas and some Tiama from my bag."  
  
"Yes sir." Latriel responded, and he went into Toron's bag and returned with a handful of green herbs.  
  
"Crush them in your hand." Latriel did so. "Now take half of it, put it in your mouth." Latriel divided it evenly, and put half in his mouth.  
  
"mmhmm.." Latriel responded.  
  
"Now take it out of your mouth, make sure it is like a thick paste."  
  
Latriel spit it out into his hand, and it was like a paste. "Alright."  
  
"Now put it into my cut, and around it on the skin." Latriel lifted Toron's Elvish shirt, and saw the cut from the dagger. It was two inches long, and very thin.  
  
"Your wound is still open," Latriel sighed as he placed some herbs in the wound. Toron tensed for a moment, and relaxed. "Just a little more," Latriel assured, as he placed some more herb mixture on the darkened area around the wound. "Done. Now what do I do with the rest of these herbs?"  
  
"Place them in a bowl of warm water."  
  
Latriel stood and made a small fire. He took a flask of water from his bag and heated a small portion of it. As the water was boiling, he put the Ethelas and Tiama in it. The smell spread through the entire area, rejuvenating anyone who smelt it. He picked up the bowl, and brought it over to Toron.  
  
"What now?" "Put it on the ground. The smell is very refreshing."  
  
"Master," Latriel sighed as he sat down. "Out of curiosity, why was there Tiama in the mixture?"  
  
"The Ethelas will purge the poison from the wound, and the Tiama helps the wound heal."  
  
"I understand now," Latriel said as he turned to face the fire. There was a long silence, and Toron closed his eyes. Latriel turned back to Toron.  
  
"Master, why did we go to Fangorn anyway?"  
  
"Tealbon wanted to test you." Toron wheezed as he sat up.  
  
"Test me for what?"  
  
"To see if you would stay true to your apprenticeship to me, and trust me."  
  
"Did I?"  
  
"Yes," Toron placed his hand on Latriel's shoulder. "You did." A smile crept onto his fair Elven face. "It's not easy being a ranger. But you're taking to it rather well. That's why I had you do all those drills in Fangorn the day before we left."  
  
"Ahh. I understand now."  
  
"Yes. Your interest in being a ranger is astounding, and your skill with a bow is even more so. But.." Latriel joined in. "there's more than fighting to being a ranger."  
  
"I know, Toron." Latriel sighed.  
  
"You know.. I never told you.. but.." Toron stopped suddenly. His face was serious, and very intent on whatever he was listening to. "put out the fire. Quickly!" he whispered.  
  
Latriel ran over to the fire, and drenched it in water. "What now?" he asked.  
  
"get down." Toron ordered. Latriel fell flat on his face.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Another troop of goblins. Quiet."  
  
"Why does the boss want us to come up here?" One goblin asked as they made their way up the path.  
  
"I don't know, he wants us to check on the troop he sent up earlier." Said another.  
  
"Why should we waste our time? We're supposed to get to the old Black Gate before tomorrow night!"  
  
"I guess he just wants us to.." the goblin was stopped short as they turned into the open space on the mountainside. They saw all the dead goblins lying here and there, and black blood scattered on the ground as if it were dirt. "So much for the first troop.." the goblin said.  
  
"O well! Too bad for them. Let's get back to camp."  
  
The small troop of goblins turned and made their way back down the trail, arguing and cursing as they went. Latriel and Toron were on the shelf listening to all of this, and they were amazed and confused.  
  
"Why would they want to go to the old Black Gate?" Latriel asked.  
  
"I don't know. But I don't want to stay and find out." Toron said as he stood, and put his shirt back on.  
  
"Are you going to be alright?" Latriel asked.  
  
"Yes, I feel tenfold better than I did. Come, for today we must face the long pass of Caradhras."  
  
The two got up, and they went side by side to face the Mountain of Caradhras. 


	6. Chapter V: A Chilling Premonition

Chapter V: A Chilling Premonition  
  
"It is freezing." Latriel shivered as a cloud of mist emerged from his mouth.  
  
"We are at the top of Caradhras. What would you expect? A lagoon?"  
  
"I didn't think it would be this cold." Latriel mumbled as he scooted closer to the small fire they had built. They had climbed the path of Caradhras, and were now making camp in a small cave just off of the path.  
  
"We were so close to Mirkwood! How are we supposed to get home now?" Latriel asked as he warmed his hands over the fire.  
  
"We have no choice but to move north and cross Rivendell, into northern Mirkwood. From there we can reach Tealmon's realm easily." Toron said as he cleaned his sword on a rag he was holding.  
  
"How long will it take?"  
  
"We have expanded our journey from about 130 miles.. to about," he sighed deeply. "240."  
  
"Two hundred and forty miles!" He put his head in his palms and began to whine.  
  
"Oh save your whining, Latriel! The sooner we depart, the better. Let's get some sleep.. we have to reach the base of Caradhras by tomorrow eve."  
  
"Alright. Goodnight, master." Latriel said as he laid himself down, covered in thin (yet very warm) Elven blankets.  
  
Toron laid back and looked at the ceiling of the small cave, and slowly drifted off to sleep. His dreams were uneventful until the early morning, when he began to stir in his sleep. He turned from side to side uneasily, and sweat began to form on his smooth forehead.  
  
He felt wet, as if coldness was pounding onto him. He looked up, and saw a dark figure leaning over him with his sword drawn. "Who? Wha?" He mumbled. He heard a dark voice say, "You are helpless. You are nothing. You.. Are mine." The shadow then raised his sword. "No.." He mumbled just as the figure shoved his sword right into Toron's side. Immense pain ripped through Toron's body, and he sat up screaming in pain. Latriel jumped from the sudden noise, and ran to Toron's side.  
  
"What is it, Toron?" He grunted as he stood. Toron was sitting up, sweat pouring down his face. Latriel looked at his side, it was bleeding again.  
  
"Toron! Toron!" He yelled. "Wha.. what?" Toron mumbled.  
  
"You opened your wound."  
  
Toron was breathing heavily. "Oh.. I must have ripped it open as I moved in my sleep."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nu-nothing. Go back to bed." Toron said, patting Latriel on the back. He then reached into his bag, and pulled out a piece of cloth, which he placed on is wound. He then rolled over, and attempted to get back to sleep.  
  
He could still hear the echoes of that haunting voice. "You are helplesssssss.." And he drifted off to uneasy sleep. 


	7. ChapterVI: To Rivendale

Chapter VI: To Rivendale  
  
Toron woke from an uneasy sleep, and saw Latriel standing at the opening of the cave. He was looking towards the west, seeing the dull tan fields of Eregion. He noticed the scattered rocks lying here and there throughout the vast plain, and also the few green patches of grass.  
  
"You're up," Latriel said, turning his head and looking at Toron. "Finally."  
  
"Yet," He sighed as he sat up, his wrinkled Elven garbs moving in the soft breeze entering through the cave entrance. "It was an uncomftorable sleep."  
  
"Rocks do not make a good bed," Latriel laughed, but stopped as he noticed the seriousness on Toron's face. He was looking out of the cave entrance, onto the rolling hills of Eregion.  
  
"It was not the rocks that made the sleep uncomfortable," Toron looked at the ground. "I had a troubling dream. If it was even a dream." He moved forward and crossed his legs, putting his chin into his hands. "It was too real to be a dream, but there is no alternative."  
  
"It could have been a vision, a foresight."  
  
"Possibly," Toron mumbled as he stood and walked to the cave entrance. He stopped next to Latriel, and took a deep breath of fresh mountain air. "I've never had one before." He said as he stared into the rolling hills of Eregion, as if lost in a trance.  
  
"Toron?" Latriel whispered. "Toron!" He yelled. Toron jerked out of his trance.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Gather your things, we must move quickly." Latriel walked to the back of the cave and began to pick up his things. Toron stared out of the cave, intent on his own thoughts. He then turned and picked up his carry-bag. "Come, Latriel. We must follow the Misty Mountains north to Rivendale."  
  
"Rivendale? Don't you mean Rivendell?" Latriel asked as the caught up with Toron, who was making his way down from the slightly elevated cave.  
  
"No, Rivendale was the name given to old Rivendell after Elrond left for the Grey Havens. When the next generation of Elves arrived and found Rivendell, they gifted it with a new name. It was slightly run-down, but they refurbished it and cleaned it up. The new master of the last homely house is Elmindel."  
  
"Elmindel? Who is he?" Latriel asked as they made their way north along the western side of the Misty Mountains, tiny specks compared to the massive peaks of the Mountains by which they were traveling.  
  
"He is the wisest Elf in Middle-Earth - well, second wisest. Only to Caleborn, son of Celeborn of Lorien."  
  
"Why did we not stop in Lorien? We passed it before we reached Caradhras - we could have stopped there for a time to regain our strength."  
  
Toron stopped and looked at Latriel. "Lorien is out of the question as of now. Why we did not stop there, I will only know. We must continue. Do not be burdened by past decisions, only concentrate on those to come." He said, placing his hand on Latriel's shoulder. "Let us continue." He said with a smile, and he walked off with Latriel close behind.  
  
The journey to Rivendale was long, and took half a day longer than Toron had intended. The walk was uneventful, except for Latriel's constant complaining. As they approached the valley of Rivendale, a smile came to Toron's face.  
  
"Rivendale. The Last Homely House, and home to Elmindel the wise."  
  
The elven city of Rivendale stood beautiful and intimidating. Surrounded by multiple waterfalls, Rivendale stood a tall and elegant example of Elven architecture. Even Latriel's hopes were lifted as he looked upon the beauty of Rivendale.  
  
The two walked down the winding path, and they stopped in front of the flowing river of Bruinen. Latriel turned, looking at the tall, tree-covered wall of rock behind him. He then looked at the valley around him, it was clad in the beautiful green of trees. He then looked at the flowing Bruinen before him. "I am glad to be among our own again. Where to from here, master?"  
  
Toron looked back to Latriel, and sighed. "We shall stay here a short while, then we shall take the old Forest Road East to Central Mirkwood. From there, we then turn north to our home."  
  
Toron looked at Rivendale. "I was in Rivendell once, a long time ago." He stopped as he was lost in memory. "Perhaps I shall tell you the tale while we are resting there. Maybe I shall tell you of the great Council of Elrond."  
  
Latriel's jaw opened and he looked at Toron in amazement. "You know of the great Council of Elrond?"  
  
"Yes, I was there. With the son of the King, Legolas."  
  
"The great archer, and member of the great Fellowship?"  
  
"Yes, I was sent with him, but was not chosen to join the fellowship. Come, you shall learn of all that later. It was not all that long ago. But the time will come when you will learn my tale in full."  
  
The two made their way across the violent current of the Bruinen, and stood beholding the beauty of the city.  
  
"Come! To the halls of Rivendale!" Toron shouted as they ran off to the fair city of Rivendale. 


	8. Chapter VII: Sweet Dreams

Chapter VII: Sweet Dreams  
  
Toron slowed as they approached the gate of Rivendale. There was a great arch before them, with beautiful intertwining carvings in the gate. The doors opened soundlessly, and an elf emerged with two armed elves behind them  
  
The leading elf approached. He was tall, and had a fair elven face. Toron put his fist to his chest, and bowed. Latriel caught on immediately and did the same. The elf looked at Toron, and spoke to him in their natural language.  
  
"I am Ealdor. Why do you approach the fair city of Rivendale?" He asked with his firm and proud Elven voice.  
  
Toron bowed again with his fist to his chest. "Fair Ealdor of Rivendale, we seek Elmindel, wisest of the Elves. We are on a long journey home to Mirkwood, and we seek shelter for a day or two."  
  
"Why have you come on the road west of the Misty Mountains? Your journey may have been lessened by many days if you would have stayed on the eastern road."  
  
"Oh Ealdor of Rivendale, we were forced over Caradhras by a large company of Goblins."  
  
"Caradhras?" Ealdor asked in curiosity. "Why did you take Caradhras?"  
  
"It was our only choice. Please, Ealdor, will you allow us in?"  
  
Ealdor looked at them cautiously. "I can see that you are plainly elves - but of what elven society to you belong?"  
  
"We are of the Elves of Mirkwood, fair Ealdor."  
  
"Ahh. Mirkwood Elves, they are friends here."  
  
"I am also friend to Elrond," Toron added. Ealdor's eyes widened, and he quickly walked forward and put his arm around Toron's back.  
  
"Any friend of Elrond the great is ours as well! Come! Let us take care of you!"  
  
Ealdor led them through the streets, and past many beautiful houses. The sound of water crashing against rocks was ever present, and the fresh breeze was frequent upon their fair faces. They then turned, and started to walk up a winding path. Latriel looked before him, and saw the largest house in all the city. He looked at Ealdor. "What is that?"  
  
Ealdor stopped and looked at Latriel. "That," He said, pointing. "Is the house of Elmindel, the largest, and fairest house in all the land." They then headed off to the house of Elmindel.  
  
The house was tall, and the sleek roof rested upon many supports. Latriel leaned his head back to see the top of the house as they approached the stairs. They then started up the long stair to the door. The stairs were straight, but they were long and tiring. Ealdor stopped at the large arched door. There were two elven guards standing at the door. "Elmah" He whispered, and the guards immediately opened the door.  
  
As they entered, Latriel noticed the long hall before him. There were pillars on either side, and statues were arranged in front of every other pillar. There was a brilliant light in the hall, for the roof had many openings. Ealdor turned and looked at Toron. "Do you wish to see Elmindel now? Or do you wish to rest first?"  
  
Toron, looking back to Elmindel's blue eyes after he was finished looking at the beautiful hall, replied "I would like to rest first."  
  
"As you wish." Ealdor turned and whispered something to the guards once more. "After you are cleaned and rested, we will then have a great feast, such a feast not seen in Rivendale since the beginning of our time here! Now go, rest! May your legs be rested and your hearts be merry! Do not fear, for you are in the care of Elmindel!"  
  
They were then ushered to their room. Toron and Latriel followed the guards as they winded past several rooms - some, Toron noted, were libraries. Other rooms had elves talking together merrily, and others were empty, but had various statues and beautiful works of art within. They then turned left, into a thin hallway. The guard then stopped by a door, and said "Here you are, Toron of Mirkwood. The feast shall begin this eve, I will come to retrieve you soon enough. Do not hesitate to explore, for this is a large house with many, many things to examine and experience. Until later." The guard then walked down the hallway, and disappeared.  
  
"Well," Toron sighed. "Lets get some rest." They then turned, and entered the room that was appointed to them. It was very large, and had many open windows overlooking the beautiful trees outside. There were two beds, and a basin for washing at the far end of the room. And many beautiful statues arranged here and there around the room.  
  
Latriel was looking around the room in amazement, until Toron interrupted his thoughts. "Latriel!" He yelled.  
  
Latriel jerked out of his daze, and looked at Toron. He was standing outside, looking out upon the beautiful waterfalls and rivers that wound around the city, and breathing freely the clean, crisp air. He then turned and sighed. "Latriel, get some sleep."  
  
Latriel didn't argue, and made his way to his bed. He slipped under the thin covers, gold-trimmed and smooth as silk, and took deep breaths as he drifted slowly off to sleep.  
  
Toron took another breath, and walked across their room to the door. He reached for the handle, but stopped. "I may as well get some rest now," He thought as he turned and walked briskly to his bed. He laid himself down, and breathed the sweet scent of Rivendale.  
  
Drifting off to sleep, he kept his eyes on the intricate design of the ceiling, with many leaves carved into the curved ceiling. He was then transported into his own memory, into the last time he was in the protective borders of Rivendell. He could see what he saw that day he arrived in Rivendell, it's beautiful houses in all their beauty and he could feel the cleansing cool of the river upon his body. He then saw the green garden outside Elrond's house, the rock path bordered with tall green trees and flowers standing tall on either side of the path.  
  
He saw the shadow from the beautiful green roof, but then it changed. The shadow grew, from it's small place under the tree's roof to the trunk of the trees, then to the ground. The shadow then moved, like pure darkness upon the ground. It then took form, right in front of Toron. The shadow then became the shape of a man, but could barely be made out, for the beautiful garden and all of its flowers and trees had withered and died in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing but darkness. Toron could barely see the shape before him. It looked like a man.  
  
Latriel, hearing Toron struggle and gasp in his sleep, sat up in his bed and watched Toron, just in case he needed someone. Toron was breathing heavier, and Latriel could tell he was uncomfortable. He nearly said something, but stopped as Toron moved suddenly in his bed. His arms suddenly went upwards, as if defending himself from attack. Latriel looked at his face - it was scared, and dripping with sweat. Latriel jumped from his bed, and ran to Toron's side. He nearly said something again, but Toron interrupted him once more. Toron screamed, blood-curdling and intense. Latriel did not know what to do. He was shocked by Toron's scream, for he had never seen or heard Toron in this much fear. He thought about it, and discovered that he had never seen Toron this scared before. He took Toron's hand in his own and began to sing in his sweet Elven voice. After he was done with the first sentence, Toron's hand loosened and fell from his. Latriel looked at Toron's face and noticed it was completely relaxed. He was in a deep sleep, content and peaceful.  
  
Latriel stood and walked over to his bed, quickly peering over his shoulder at Toron for a moment, and lay down again in his bed, and uneasily drifted off to sleep. He was worried about Toron. 


	9. Chapter VIII: The Great FeastThe Council...

Chapter VIII: The Great Feast / The Council of Elrond  
  
"Ohhhh.." Toron sighed. He shifted backwards in his bed and leaned his stiff back against the wall. "What.." He mumbled as he noticed a tautness on his stomach. He lifted his arm, and looked through the V formed by the crossing of his elven shirt. "How did that happen?" He whispered as he noticed that his stomach was wrapped in a fine white cloth. He shifted again, and a sharp pain screamed from his side. He winced, and leaned back against the wall.  
  
"Be careful," Latriel said from the corner of the room. "Don't move too much, or you'll re-open your wound. Again."  
  
"How did this happen?" Toron asked, and winced again.  
  
"Ealdor came in about an hour ago with another Elf. He noticed the stains on your shirt, and they took care of you."  
  
"Why didn't I notice?"  
  
"They had you smell something, and I suppose it knocked you out."  
  
"I assumed as much." He sighed.  
  
"Here," Latriel said as he grabbed a small vile from the small table between their beds. "Ealdor said to take this, put a little bit on your wound, and to drink the rest."  
  
Toron reached and took the small vile from Latriel's hand. "Drink the rest?" He asked reluctantly.  
  
"That's what he said.. Remember, these are Rivendale Elves. They don't do things the way we do."  
  
"That thought had crossed my mind." He laughed for a moment, then looked down at his side. "Well, here we go." He reached into his shirt, and unwound the white cloth. It came out easily, and it was stained with many blotches of blood. He then picked up the vile, poured three drops onto his forefingers, and spread the ointment on the wound. "Ah!" He choked suddenly as the ointment felt as if it were burning the wound. He then let out a comfortable sigh as he felt the ointment cool his skin.  
  
"What's wrong?" Latriel asked.  
  
"Nothing, it just burned for a second. It feels much better now." He then slipped off his shirt, and looked at the wound. "Wow, it's completely healed. It feels much better now." He then set the vile on the table again, slipped on his shirt, and walked off to the door. He put his hand on the handle, and nearly walked outside when he was stopped by Latriel.  
  
"Toron.. you have to drink it.."  
  
"Oh.. yes." He reluctantly returned to the table, and took the vile in his hand. "Well.." He sighed.  
  
"Come on, Toron. Just drink it." And just as Latriel said these words, Toron drank the contents of the Vile. Just as it was for his wound, the drink was very hot at first, but then turned cool and very refreshing. "Well?" Latriel asked curiously.  
  
"It was good. I think I'll ask for the recipe.." and just as Toron said that, Ealdor strode through their door.  
  
"Sir," Ealdor said, bowing. "It is now evening, and the feast will begin shortly - if you'll follow me." He then led them through the vast halls of Rivendale, past meeting rooms, archives, and past many gardens. He then turned into a very large hall. Latriel had to lean backwards to see the ceiling. It was tall and arched. The room was only lit by the many fires in their places around the outside of the hall.  
  
Ealdor then led them past the table, which was vastly long. It had many chairs on both sides, and on the ends. There were plates at every seat, and beautiful chalices. At the head of the table, there was three seats, more elevated than the others. "If you and Latriel will please take your seats. Toron, you will be in the center, and Latriel you may take your choice of seat next to him."  
  
Just as Ealdor finished, a loud bell rang. "Ah, the great bell. Come, it is time!" Ealdor then had them stand behind their seats, and elves started to make their way to the table. Many came from the same hall they had, but others were coming from hallways attached to the long hall.  
  
Latriel mindlessly sat as all the elves in the room made their way to their designated seats, and stood behind them.  
  
Elmindel then entered from somewhere in the shadows, and stood behind his seat, to the right of Toron. He stood tall, and his flowing white elven robes followed him wherever he moved. He then put his fist to his chest, and put his arm back down again. "My dearest and closest elves!" He said loudly, so all at the long table could hear his booming voice. Toron hit Latriel quickly on the arm, and he then stood up quickly as Elmindel continued. "This is Toron, great ranger of Mirkwood! He is our Elf of Honour! Now drink to his health, and let us feast as we have not since we have first arrived! Come!"  
  
He then asked Toron and Latriel to sit. As they were doing so, elven women poured into the room carrying large bowls and plates that were heaping with delicious food. The women walked down the length of the table, creating two white lines on both sides of the long table, and then turned at the same time - as if they had done it every evening. The flowing white lines then moved upon the table, setting the gigantic bowls and plates upon the center of the table. After they set their cargo down, they then returned to their lines, and departed the way they came. "Now," Elmindel said loudly. "Let us eat and drink until our blood warms our hearts! Eat now! This is a time of feasting!"  
  
All of the elves then ate, talking and singing as if the night would never grow old. As the bowls and plates became less and less empty, the singing did not let up until the food was all gone. The ale was ever flowing, and never ceasing, and when Toron had eatin his fill, he leaned back in his chair and groaned. Latriel, still drinking and eating merrily, leaned over and whispered to Toron, "What's wrong? Why aren't you eating? Didn't you hear? This is a time of feasting! Not to mention this has been our biggest meal in weeks - well, ever.. but.."  
  
Latriel was interrupted by Toron's grunting as he sat up in his chair. "I think I ate too much, Latriel. I'll be fine. Eat! Be merry! The night is yet still young!"  
  
At that Latriel went back to his eating and singing with the other elves, and they were all enjoying themselves greatly.  
  
When the singing had died down, and the sighing from full stomachs filled the air, Elmindel stood and spoke once more. "Let us go into the Gathering Room! Let us talk there and talk the night away!"  
  
All of the elves stood, except for Latriel who was finishing the last drops of his elven wine. He then stood, quite embarrassed, and whispered to Toron, "you could have told me!" Then the elves emptied into a door hidden in the shadows at the rear of the room, and left Elmindel, Toron, and Latriel.  
  
"There was at least thirty five elves at this table - this is indeed a homely house!" Latriel said in amazement.  
  
"Yes, these were my most trusted and closest friends. There are many, many more elves in the city of Rivendale. These were an elite few that I handpicked to be in your prescence."  
  
Toron waved his hand. "We aren't that important.." He sighed.  
  
"On the contrary, you are! You are friend to Elrond! You know of Rivendell and of much more than any of us. Come, let us go into the gathering room and talk the night away." Elmindel then began to walk away.  
  
Latriel spoke, but didn't mean to. "Are we going to have seats? There's so many elves in there.,"  
  
"No need to worry, young Latriel. Three great seats have been set for myself and our guests of honor! Now come!"  
  
The three then walked to the rear of the room, where shadow overthrew the white starlight entering through the open ceiling. Latriel could barely see anything, but as they continued to walk, a red light began to grow before them. Then Latriel saw the door, it was gleaming red - firelight.  
  
As they entered the gathering room, Latriel stopped in amazement and looked at the room. If you can even call it a room. There were three rounded walls, forming a U in the walls of the great house of Elmindel. On the farthest wall there sat three large chairs, which Latriel presumed were reserved for them. In front of Latriel, there were steps that led down at least 15 feet to a round center where a large fire was blazing. He looked behind the fire, on the far side of the room. There were elves sitting in comftorable seats all along the wall, and down the slope to the fire. Elves sat in this fashion from the left wall around to the wall that Latriel's back was to.  
  
The three walked to their seats, Toron in the middle, Elmindel on his left, and Latriel on Toron's right. Latriel again noticed how many elves were in the room. From where he was sitting, there were walls on his left and right, and before him it was open so he could see out upon the trees and houses of Rivendell. The elves were sitting in a long U facing them. Elves on the left wall (and down the slope to the fire), curving along the open space along the walls, and coming back along the right wall. Latriel then looked at the ceiling, and noticed it wasn't a ceiling. It was open, with a small shelf above the rear wall. He looked at the beautiful stars, and Elmindel noticed his peering to the heavens.  
  
"That," Elmindel said pointing to a bright star in the night sky, "Is Earendil. The most beloved star of all Elvendom on Middle-Earth."  
  
Latriel leaned over, in front of Toron, and whispered to Elmindel. "Are there more elves here than before? It looks like more."  
  
Elmindel whispered back, "Yes, we allowed quite a few more elves into the gathering room than into the high feast."  
  
"High feast?" Latriel whispered.  
  
"Yes, there is a high feast, and a feast. The high feast is a far less number than in the feast. The high feast is where the important elves eat, and the feast is for any elf that has the wish to come."  
  
"Ahh, I see."  
  
Elmindel then stood. "My dearest elves, may I present Toron of Mirkwood!" He then leaned over and whispered to Toron, "stand up."  
  
Toron stood reluctantly, and then noticed the large number of Elves in the room. "Toron has been on Middle-Earth for a very long time, and he knows of Rivendell and of Elrond!"  
  
The room then burst into whispers among the elves. Toron didn't know how to react to this, and stood uncomftorably.  
  
Latriel leaned over and asked Toron plainly because of all the noise in the room, "Didn't you say you know about the Council of Elrond?" Toron immediately "shhh"'d him. But one elf had heard. A young elf stood and walked closer to them.  
  
"Did you say that Toron knows of the Great Council of Elrond?" the young elf asked.  
  
The room erupted once again into intense whispers, and many amazed looks at Toron. Even Elmindel looked at Toron in astonishment.  
  
"You know of the Council of Elrond?" He asked.  
  
Toron was quite baffled, but managed to mumble, "Yes. I was there."  
  
The room again erupted, but this time into loud speaking.  
  
"Quiet!" Elmindel yelled. "Quiet! Toron, will you tell us the tale?"  
  
"Umm.." he thought. "I suppose, if you really want me to."  
  
The room then splashed with applause, and then erupted into a vast wave of applause.  
  
"I suppose I will then. Now let me see if I remember this." Toron said.  
  
The room became deathly quiet, every Elven ear was intent on Toron's words, and he began to speak after many minutes of thinking.  
  
Toron stood from his seat and walked to the center of the room, near the fire.  
  
"When I was in Mirkwood, a long time ago, there was much discussion - rumors, rather - about the great Ring of Power being found. I presume you all know the tale of the great Ring?"  
  
There were many nods and "yes"s from the crowd. He then began to pace as he continued.  
  
"We then had a meeting in the high House, home to the King. His Son, Legolas Greenleaf, was there, along with many other elves. The King stood and said 'Doom is near. I am not aware of what rumors you have heard among our elves, but this may stop those rumors. The Ring of Power has been found', he said. The room reacted in their own ways, and it was very quiet for quite a while. I was amazed, and astonished. I had heard many tales that spoke of the great Ring of Power, but had never had proof until then. The king spoke again. 'Elrond of Rivendell has sent a messenger to us, requesting that I send representatives to Rivendell for a great council to decide the fate of the Ring. Supposedly he has it in Rivendell.' He then chose the representatives of Mirkwood. He chose his son, Legolas, who chose me to go with him. The King then chose one other, whom I cannot recall.  
  
'We set out that day, and spent that afternoon and the next morning riding non-stop to Rivendell. As we entered the gates, we immediately felt safe, but we were burdened by the thought of the Ring. That was my first time in Rivendell, and I hadn't returned until now.  
  
'Two days after we arrived, the council was held. It was early in the morning, and we were all uncomfortable. Elrond had the seats arranged in a circle, and he was sitting at the northern side of it. There was a small stone stand a few feet in front of his chair, and it was bare. I looked around the circle, and noticed the representatives from each race. There was Boromir son of Denethor, prince of Gondor with three companions. There was also Gimli, Son of Gloin, and Gloin was there himself! There were also two other elves there. Aragorn - king of Gondor was there, too. Also, there was a Halfing named Frodo and another named Bilbo - and Gandalf the White.  
  
'We all sat in a circle, rather uncomfortably, until Elrond finally spoke. 'Stangers from distant lands, friends of old.' He said. 'You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. None can escape it, we all suffer from this one fate, this one doom. You will unite - or you will fall.' He then sat, and invited Gandalf to speak.  
  
'Gandalf spoke of his journey, and of his troubles with a wizard call Saruman. It seemed to make no difference to me, and it was even less important to Boromir. After a very long while, Gandalf sat, and Elrond requested Frodo, the nine-fingered, to tell his tale. I remember he stood reluctantly, but then stood and told his tale. Every time he spoke of the Ring, Boromir sat up in his chair, listening intently.  
  
'After Frodo had finished his tale, Elrond spoke again. 'Frodo - bring forth the ring.' Frodo then stood and placed a small golden band on the stone pillar that I spoke of earlier. I was amazed.. and afraid. I said aloud 'The doom of men.." and Boromir stared at it intently. Legolas stared at the ring, thinking his own thoughts. Boromir then stood, and spoke aloud. 'In a dream,' he said. 'A dream I had - light was fading in the east, but in the west a pale light lingered. A voice called out 'your doom is near at hand, Isildur's bane has been found.' He then fell into a trance and reached for the Ring on the pillar. 'Isildur's bane..' he whispered, and nearly took the Ring from the pillar! Immediately Elrond yelled his name, and Gandalf stood and starting spouting words in the Black Speech of Mordor. All turned red, and the earth shook violently at the uttering of the language of Mordor.  
  
'When Gandalf stopped talking, all returned to normal. The shaking had scared Boromir back to his seat, and all was silent. Elrond spoke in distaste. 'Never before has that speech been spoken here in Imladris.' He said.. Then Gandalf walked to the middle of the circle and said 'I do not ask your pardon, master Elrond - but before long the black speech of Mordor will be heard in every corner of the west!'  
  
'At his Boromir sighed and stood. 'No, it is a gift, I say!' He said rather loudly. 'Not a burden, but a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this ring?' He then began to pace. 'Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of Our people are your lands kept safe!' I noticed then that Aragorn was looking rather annoyed with Boromir. But he continued, 'Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it for good! Let us use it against him!'  
  
'At this Aragorn sighed and spoke, 'You cannot weild it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It would only bring destruction to your lands! It has no other master!' Boromir looked at Aragorn doubtfully, and spoke. 'and what would a measly ranger know of such matters?'  
  
'Then Legolas sprung from his seat beside me. 'He is no mere ranger!' He yelled. 'He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn! You owe him your allegiance.' Boromir looked at Aragorn in shock at that moment, and mumbled 'Aragorn? You are the one Heir of Isildur?' Legolas then spoke again. 'And heir to the throne of Gondor! The only man in Middle-Earth who can sit on the throne of Gondor!'  
  
'Aragorn told him to sit down in elvish so no others, mainly the dwarves I found out later, could not tell what he was saying. Boromir then looked at Aragorn with distaste. 'Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.' And he went back to his seat, eying Aragorn angrily.  
  
'There was a dull silence, and finally Gandalf spoke. 'Aragorn is right, we cannot use it.' Elrond then sat up in his chair, taking a pause from his deep thought. 'We now have only one choice, the Ring must be destroyed.' Then Gimli, the Dwarf, stood and took his axe in hand. 'Well what are we waiting for?' he yelled in his deep, rough Dwarvish voice. He then lunged at the pillar and smashed his axe upon the ring. It exploded in many pieces, and caused him to fly backwards to his chair. He landed on the ground in a heap.  
  
'Elrond let out a small snicker, as if he knew that was going to happen. 'The Ring cannot be destroyed by any craft that we here, or anyone else, possesses. The Ring was made in the fires of mount doom. And only there can it be unmade.' He paused, then continued. 'The Ring must be taken deep into Mordor, the land of Shadow, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it was forged.' He paused again, but for a longer time. 'One of you must do this.'  
  
'It was pure silence. Boromir sighed and began to speak, I noticed Aragorn sighing even deeper and leaning back in his seat in annoyance. 'One does not simply walk into Mordor,' He began. 'It's black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. The Great Eye', which was the Eye of Sauron the dark lord, 'is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust.. the very air you breath is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this - it is folly!'  
  
'Once again Legolas jumped from his seat. 'have you heard nothing that Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!' right then, Gimli the Dwarf jumped up. 'And I suppose you're the one to do it?' He yelled. Then Boromir jumped into the chaos. 'If we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?' Gimli was staring angrily at Legolas, and yelled, 'I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf! Never trust an Elf!'  
  
'At that point I jumped in and started yelling at Gimli, which appearantly cought on, for everyone in the circle began yelling angrily at eachother. Gandalf the White then stood and began to yell, 'You all be quiet! You'll all be destroyed!' And we all began arguing bitterly. We would have kept arguing until the end of the day, but we were interrupted by that Halfling, Frodo. He was yelling that he would take the Ring to Mordor. 'I will take it! I will take it!' he said. 'I will take the Ring to Mordor.' We all stopped and looked at him. 'Though, I do not know the way.'  
  
'I was very impressed with his courage and bravery, though I don't think he knew what he was getting himself into. Gandalf, intrigued by his offer, stood before him. 'I will help you bear this burden, as long as it is yours to bear.' Then Aragorn walked over to Frodo. 'And by my life or death, I can protect you. You have my sword.' Then even Gimli offered! 'And my axe!' he said proudly.  
  
'I wanted to go, but Legolas had the quicker tongue. Just after Gimli decided to leave, another halfing, Sam, yelled from behind the plants on the outer ring of the circle. 'Here!' he yelled, and ran up next to Frodo. 'Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me.' Elrond was quite displeased. 'No, it is indeed impossible to separate you when he is invited to a secret council, and you are not.'  
  
'After his last words, there was a yell from behind the pillars behind the circle. Two more halfings ran and stood next to Frodo. I heard they were called Merry and Pippin. 'We're coming too!' One yelled as they ran next to Frodo. 'You're going to have to tie us up in a sac to stop us!' Merry yelled. 'You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission.. quest.. thing.' Pippin said."  
  
The room erupted into laughter, and after it had died down, Toron continued. "Then Merry said, 'Well, that rule's you out, Pip!'" Again the room erupted. Toron then went to tell the tale of the rest of his stay in Rivendell. More about Elrond, and more about Legolas at the request of the Elves in the front rows.  
  
The rest of the night was spent singing and laughing, and with the telling of many more tales.  
  
Toron went to sleep that night content and full of memories. As he lie down in his bed, he pulled the covers over his chest, and began to relax. He whispered to himself, "Each time I come here, it becomes harder and harder to leave."  
  
With that he drifted off to sleep, lost in distant memories; his dreams were pleasant and uneventful. He had dreams of his night in Rivendale, and he never thought about his having to leave very soon. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply the sweet air of Rivendale. 


	10. Chapter IX: The Land of the Sleeping Riv...

Chapter IX: The Land of the Sleeping River

            "Toron… Toron!" Latriel shook him violently, gripping Toron by the shoulders. "Wake up! You slept in.. again."

            Toron came back from his deep sleep. He stirred for a moment under the sleek white blankets, then forced himself to sit up and wince at the blinding sunlight pounding its way though the thin shades.

            "Toron! You're finally awake!"

            "Yes, I am." He sighed deeply. "Who could sleep through that?" He swiveled in the bed, setting his bare feet on the floor. He breathed deeply, taking in the sweet fragrance that was ever present. "What's happening today?" He asked Latriel.

            "I don't know – You had quite the evening last night."

            "I know. That was something else…" He stood and walked lazily to the other side of the room, bowing over a silver basin. Toron looked into the basin – the water was clear and clean. He dipped his hands into the basin and splashed the cool water onto his face. "Want to look through the libraries? Or just relax in the north garden?" 

            "Let's just let it flow. I think the archives would be really interesting."

            Toron pulled of his shirt, and threw on his normal traveling outfit. It was trim and neatly cleaned. _Another benefit of being an honored guest of Rivendale, I suppose.._ He thought. "Come on, Latriel. Let's see what the day has in store."

            The two walked to the door, and turned into the main hallway. Latriel stopped. "Well," he sighed. "Our first decision of the day. Left or right?"

            Toron looked right – it was a long corridor with light streaming in, and plants growing around the outside of the walls as if there was nothing that could stop it from doing so. He looked left – it was slightly darker, and there was not so many plants growing. There were multiple doorways on either side, leading to different rooms containing different things. "Left."

            "Left it is then!" Latriel said cheerfully as the two turned and walked down the hallway. As they approached a stairway at the end of the long hallway, Latriel pointed at it and said, "That looks promising."

            "Let's go." Toron answered. They went down the winding stairwell, step by step into the darkness. It soon became quiet and uncoftorable. All that could be heard was the tapping of their feet on the stone stairs. The air suddenly became musty. The stairwell was lined with torches about every 15 steps, but the torches slowly started to get farther and farther apart. 

            "Twenty five.." Latriel sighed. "Thirty… forty.. Now we only have a torch every forty steps! Toron, how long does this staircase go?"

            Toron suddenly grunted as he found the bottom of the staircase. "let me help you Toron.." Latriel said rather loudly. He fumbled around to find Toron in the darkness, but he helped him up.

            "Thank you." Toron looked around, but didn't see anything. He looked from side to side, and could barely see Latriel. "Latriel, go back up the stairs and grab me a torch, will you?"

            Latriel quickly scurried back up the stairs as Toron watched him. He looked around blankly, and a flicker of hope returned to his heart as he saw a faint red light descend the stairwell. Within a few moments, Latriel returned carrying a torch. His light was only seen by the reflection of the red flame. Toron grabbed the torch and turned around. A long dark hallway preceded him, with dark hallways going off from it. 

            Toron slowly made his way down the corridor. Step by step the air grew thicker, which caused Latriel to cough at times. Toron looked down the hallways as the walked past, they were dark – immensely dark. He couldn't see the end of them because of the darkness. They made their way down the corridor slowly, and then Toron saw something at the end of the corridor. He saw red light reflected off of what looked like iron. He quickened his pace, and walked up to a large wooden door – rotted with age, and held together only by iron supports running horizontally along the wood. Toron grasped the round iron handle and pushed. A cloud of dust sprang forth from the door, and showered him. 

            "Aw!" He yelled. He coughed loudly, and spat. "That is disgusting! This door must be ancient." He pushed again, with only a loud _thump_ to get for it. "Latriel, come here. Help me push on this door."

            Latriel came over, and stood next to Toron. "On three?"

            "One," 

            "Two,"

            "Three!" They both yelled together. They smashed themselves against the door – dust flying everywhere. The stolid door would not move. Latriel became angry. He threw himself at the door again and again, but to no avail.

            "Curse this infernal door!" He then kicked with all of his strength at the base of the door. The wood flew away, and fell to the floor, leaving a gaping hole about 2 and a half feet tall in the door.

            "You first, or shall I?" Toron asked formally. Latriel didn't respond – he was dumbfounded. "I'll go first then." Toron scrambled through the small hole. Latriel soon followed.

            "Look, I don't know about.. Toron?" He stopped as he noticed Toron standing with his mouth agape. "What's wrong with you Toron? Toron?" He then looked forward, and before him stood towering stacks of ancient papers, scrolls, and books. To his left were large jars scattered about along the wall, and on his right, papers held up on the wall by some ancient skill. 

            Toron advanced forward and started looking through a stack of papers. Latriel went to investigate the articles posted on the wall. "You know," Latriel sighed, "I don't think I'll ever understand why these old places always have to have archives."

            Toron was busy looking through papers. "Well Latriel, it was common for places of importance to keep records of.. well, everything." He then picked up a paper and began to read it intently. Latriel again began to babble, not aware of Toron's find. He was soon cut off by Toron's booming voice.

"_Here lay the last words of Lord Elrond, Lord of Imladris._

_The Ring of Power is destroyed,_

_But Evil still prevails._

_Beware the power of the leaderless orcs,_

_For they will be leaderless no more._

_Beware the power of the orcs –_

_In the land of the sleeping river."_

            Latriel had frozen halfway through the first line. He turned to Toron. "The- Th- The sleeping river? What do you suppose that means?"

            Toron looked up from the paper, and looked at Latriel in a way he never had before. He was afraid. "The land of the sleeping river…" He whispered.

            "Yes, Toron," Latriel yelled. "What is the land of the sleeping River?"

            "The land of the sleeping river…" Toron whispered again. "Latriel – don't you see? The Land of the Sleeping River is –" He suddenly turned his head towards the door. "Get back."

            Latriel quickly moved to the other side of the room. "What is it?" He whispered.

            "Shh!" Toron whispered. The room was silent. 

            Latriel stood squished next to a large jar. His breathing was erratic. He could feel his heart pounding within his chest. Then he heard it. _Tap… Tap.._ His breathing became heavier.

            _Tap… Tap..Thump!.. Tap sccchhhh.. Tap scchhh.._

            Someone was coming down the stairs.


	11. Chapter X: Into Mirkwood

Chapter X

            The hole in the door was only filled with darkness. Toron moved swiftly to the wall, and reached to his side for his sword – it was not there. He looked at the black gape in the door, there was a slight flicker of red light. It slowly grew stronger and brighter as the unknown person moved his way down the winding staircase. 

            A bead of sweat found its way to Toron's brow, and soon fell to the ground in a splash. The light had stopped moving. It was not getting brigher, or dimmer.

            Latriel stood, back pressed tightly to the wall, uneasily as he watched the light stop moving. _What?_ He thought. Many moments passed, no sound or movement was heard in the acute ears of Toron but his own quiet breathing, and the quickening breaths of Latriel on the other side of the room.

            _Click!_ Latriel jumped at the sudden sound. He heard the rustling of iron on iron, metal on metal. _Click – Click_. Someone was opening the door. For the first time in countless years, the door of the Archives of Rivendell was being opened. Toron kept an intense gaze on the door as it creaked open. 

            "Hello?" Came a soft voice from behind the thick door.

            "Who are you? What do you want?" Toron yelled back.

            "I am in search of Toron, the great ranger of Mirkwood. Have you seen him? Elmindel told me he was here."

            "I am he – again, what do you want?" 

            The person quickly opened the door and rushed inside. He was an Elf, tall and slender. "Toron!" He yelled. "I have been searching desperately for you!"

            Toron stood silently against the wall, looking over the man. He then recognized who he was. "Meilos?"

            "Yes! It is he!" He ran forward and hugged Toron.

            "Meilos! What news of the wood?"

            A dark look came upon Meilos' face. It then once again became happy and cheerful. "We shall speak of that later. Come, we have much to speak about!"

            The two walked out of the room, speaking merrily. Latriel was left behind, standing in the middle of the Archive room, mouth open – not believing what he had just seen. He walked to the door and listened. He heard nothing. "They must have already reached the top," He sighed as he walked to the staircase and began to climb.

            "What am I supposed to do?" He grunted as he walked up the steep steps. " I guess I'm going to have to find something to do.." He continued up the steps, grunting and complaining. "I can't believe he just left! Who is this man? I have never heard of him before…" He approached the top stairs as light began to fill the gloomy stairway. "I can't believe he just got up and left me! This is unbelieve.." He was cut short as he was yanked from the door.

            "Latriel," Toron spoke urgently. "Pack your things."

            "But Toron!"

            "Do it! Now!" Toron turned and ran down the hallway. Latriel ran after him and turned into their room. He hurriedly grabbed his things, and ran out of the door. 

            "I have a message from Toron," Elmindel said as Latriel strode out of his room. 

            "Where did you come from?" He asked hurriedly.

            "It does not matter. Toron says to meet him at the gate as soon as you can."

            "But why?"

            "Go. All things will be explained in time. But now you must go – and quickly."

            Latriel sighed and ran off down the hallway. 

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            "Toron!" Latriel yelled as he panted down the street. 

            "Latriel, we must leave as soon as possible." Toron said as he put his sword into it's sheath.

            "But why?"

            Meilos soon emerged from a door to their left. He looked up at the massive arch above them, then down the street at the many houses that lined it.

            "Meilos! Are you ready to depart?" Toron asked.

            "Quite ready. Are you ready Latriel?"

            "I suppose.. I still don't understand what is going on." He muttered. Toron turned and faced the city.

            "Farewell Rivendale! Farewell sweet Elven Brothers!" he then turned to his companions. "Let us leave now! To Mirkwood!" He ran out of the open gate. Meilos looked at Latriel, who sighed and ran after him. 

            "Here we go." Meilos grunted as he ran off down the path.

            The Misty Mountains loomed overpoweringly on their right as they ran through the pass into Mirkwood. The trip was uneventful, and they soon reached the outskirts of Mirkwood.

            Toron stopped his running and stood, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "Let's make camp."

            Meilos stopped beside him, and slid off his backpack. "Agreed. We haven't had a single rest yet! It only took us a few hours to get here. Impressive timing!" He paused and looked behind him. "Where's Latriel?"

            "I thought he was behind you, Meilos." He looked at the field behind them, and soon saw a bobbing head appear very far away. "There he is. He never was a good runner."

            They set up camp, and set the fire. They were in the middle of a hearty meal and a song when Latriel jogged up. He was breathless, and could barely stand. He quickly sat down next to Toron, breathing heavily.

            "Glad you could make it!" Meilos joked.

            "Care for some water?" Toron asked casually. Latriel could barely answer. Toron handed him a bowl of water, which he quickly drank. He then devoured some food, and they sat around the fire, talking merrily.

            Latriel rubbed his stomach. "So what is all of this about?"

            "What is what all about?" Toron asked.

            "Us leaving Rivendale so abruptly, the Land of the Sleeping River.."

            "Oh. I will only answer one for now. Latriel, let me ask you a question. What is the only river that runs around a large portion of Mirkwood?"

            "I can't recall the name, but I know of it…"

            "Well, can you recall what happens if any outsider touches that water?"

            "They fall asleep nearly instantly." He then cought on. "The Land of the Sleeping River! Mirkwood.." His face then changed to that of concern and doubt. "What does it mean?"

            Toron looked at him seriously. "Don't you remember Elrond's words? '_Beware the power of the leaderless orcs, for they will be leaderless no more. Beware the power of the orcs, in the land of the sleeping river._'"

            Latriel thought for a moment. "Did Elrond predict that.. Orcs are going to attack Mirkwood?"

            Meilos looked at Latriel. "Yes – and it has already begun. That is why I came to fetch Toron. The King commanded his return to Mirkwood to help in the war."

            "That's why we had to leave!"

            "Yes. So, I answered both of your questions." Toron laughed.

            Meilos looked past Latriel, who was leaning on a rock, and saw the roof of Mirkwood. His eyes then cought a flicker of red on the east side. "Toron." He said and indicated the light. "Fire."

            "Not only that!" Toron yelled. On the horizon, hundreds of tiny red dots were appearing. "Orcs.." The dots suddenly sprang forwards and ran towards Mirkwood.

            "So it has begun." Meilos muttered.

            "Yes." Toron said. "We cannot stay here while this is going on. Let us go now to Mirkwood! They will need us by this time tomorrow!"

            The three ran down the hill and into Mirkwood.


End file.
